all
because you look so elegantly stunning - like some icon of
American culture - tuned-into what we're thinking; the
promise of tragedy - life, death, life - and who will wear
the crown of currency and power - who will be the fool
throughout a life; w/ out a tomorrow - who'll play the
clown and sing us songs of sorrow disguised by masks of
laughter - and who will read by candle light and vigil -
awake; full of illuminated words and images of truth,
beauty - daggers, unveiled mysteries that the common
language brandishes by days of toil and pretending to be
really just one of the gathered masses - yet, here we are:
sanctified and in communion w/ light and the only real
form of purity - fled from this earth and fed by the
innocence of love from poets bleeding words of vibrant
hearts - like songs sung - directed to break your heart as
the process of throwing Shakespearean darts at mothers and
daughters, fathers and brothers - some later than others
but always in hope to bloom -

t

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Poetry By
John Alan Conte`, Jr.

Copyright 2005

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in
a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written
permission of John Alan Conte Jr.